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and
coffee? Did you make it to the movie?”
    She shrugged, “I don’t know. I remember not
feeling well, I was sort of sick or something. I told Rebecca I
couldn’t do the movie, my stomach hurt. I don’t think we went to
the movie.” She bit her lip searching her mind.
    She wouldn’t tell him anything else if she could
remember. Anything else would incriminate her. The memories stopped
at the hazy stomachache, “I don’t know. There is nothing else.”
    He smiled, “Well remembering Starbucks and the
cookies is something.”
    She nodded weakly, “Yeah.” The memories she did
have were plaguing her. She remembered Rebecca's face clearer than
any memory she had in her entire mind. She was holding her coffee
and laughing about the very good-looking and extremely flirty
barista.
    He put his hand on hers encompassing it
completely, his skin was warm to the touch, “I’m so sorry for your
loss.”
    She looked up at him feeling the tears again,
she wanted to tell him everything. His honest face demanded it from
her. She hated the idea of lying to him.
    “I will see you at your parents house tomorrow.”
He spoke standing.
    She looked at him confused, “My parents
house?”
    He closed his eyes, “Right sorry your aunt and
uncles.”
    She nodded, “Tomorrow?”
    He nodded, “Yes, I will be posting a watch at
your house. The drugs the kidnapper used on you are blocking your
memories. The kidnapper might not know that.”
    She bit her lip, “You think I could be in danger
still?”
    He nodded, “Whoever did this to you and Rebecca
may want to finish the job.”
    Terror filled her, the lack of answers was
alarming. Her aunt and uncle could want to finish what they
started, if it was really them. If it wasn’t a madman could be
after her. Either way she didn’t like the way she felt.
    He squeezed her hand once before letting go,
“Don’t worry, we wont let anyone hurt you.”
    He walked from the room.
    She whispered, “Can you stop me from hurting
anyone?”

Chapter Four: Mithter Marcuth

    She changed into the jeans and the sweater
Roland had left her. He had even bought her the very clogs she had
wanted from the shoe store at the mall. She frowned wondering about
him and put them on. She waited for the mysterious Marcus Dragomir
to enter her room.
    She remembered the face she had given him in her
dreams, she wondered what he would look like.
    She felt him before she saw him, the room grew
cold and her heart rate quickened. Suddenly a slight breeze lifted
her hair. She smelled a dark amber incense fill the air and she
looked at the entrance of the room, knowing somehow, he would walk
through.
    He stepped in looking exactly as she had dreamt,
only his clothes were different. He wore dark jeans tailored to fit
him perfectly and a pea coat.
    “Hello love.” His dark voice filled her with
thoughts she hadn’t known her brain could muster. Well except when
reading her aunts trashy novels about Scottish lords and young
helpless maidens.
    “Hello Mr. Dragomir.” She wanted to seem more
mature, but her voice cracked under the pressure and she slightly
lisped the Mr. part of his name.
    He smiled, “Marcus, please call me Marcus. Are
you well?” His English accent was completely intact. It was as if
he hadn’t lived in the US for very long.
    She smiled back, feeling lost for a small
moment, “Fine Marcus, I’m fine.”
    He clasped his hands together, “Then shall we be
off?”
    She stood from her bed and walked behind him. He
paused at the door letting her go through first. They walked until
they came upon her doctor.
    Marcus smiled extending his hand to him, “We are
leaving.”
    The doctor smiled at Hanna, “You're a very lucky
girl, Dr. Dragomir doesn’t usually take patients on. I hope your
memories come back to you.”
    She looked confusedly at the Dr. and the
supposed Dr. and nodded slowly, “Yeah thanks, me too.”
    Marcus put his hand out for the doctor, “It was
nice seeing you again Frank. Happy